Anything
by you.had.me.at
Summary: 1st Smut. Very long one shot. SPOILERS: SECTIONALS. Rachel was the kind of person who would do anything for anyone.


**A/N: Yeah, I should be studying for my Hungarian final tomorrow morning, but I wanted to dabble in the art of smut and here's my attempt. I hope you enjoy it. Spoilers for Sectionals. **

**DISCLAIMER: I do not own Glee or Intervention. I only own the baby laptop upon which this story is written. **

Rachel was the kind of person that would do anything for anyone. Yeah, she could be loud, annoying, and abrasive, but she really did have everyone's best intentions at heart: until she knowingly hurt Quinn by breaking up her relationship with Finn. She felt so guilty, but she just wanted to be with Finn. That day in the auditorium when he lay on top of her, he was so soft, and she was so willing, but she got desperate and she hurt him, too. Rachel hadn't planned on Finn brushing past her, she kind of knew he would leave Glee, but at the moment she told him, she really didn't care. Everyone filed out of the choir room, and Rachel knew she had to say _something_ to Quinn Fabray. Rachel went over to where Quinn was sitting on the bench down the hallway from the choir room, and said her piece. Quinn was right _neither of us can have him_. Quinn wanted to be alone, so Rachel got up and made her way down the hall, running into Puck. Rachel ducked into the adjacent hallway and listened to the pair. It hurt to hear Puck be rejected by the girl Rachel knew he loved, and she felt for him because she couldn't have Finn either: as a matter of fact, Puck and Rachel were right back where they were two months ago: a couple of hot lonely Jews.

Puck and Quinn had stopped talking, and Rachel could hear footsteps echoing down the otherwise empty hallway. Rachel snuck a glance around the hallway and saw Puck sitting on the same bench were she had left Quinn. He looked awful, and Rachel figured he had a right to look awful: his world had come crashing down at a rather abrupt halt. She made her way silently down the hallway and when she got within a few feet of him, he looked up, his expression going from hurt to rage in a split second, "I thought you'd be in Finn's bed by now," he smirked, hatred in his hazel eyes. "I'm sorry for what I've done to everyone. I just wanted to be with Finn, and yet I've managed to ruin everyone's lives. Not to mention our chances at Sectionals," she replied meekly, she deserved every hatful thing anyone said to her. "Look, Berry, just leave me the fuck alone, alright?" Rachel just stood there and when he opened his mouth again to tell her to leave, she said, "You know it's funny how we're right back where we were." He closed his mouth; he knew exactly what she meant. After a moment said, "No, I'm fucked. You can still be with him."

"Not anymore, I betrayed him just as much as either of you did….that's not what I meant, I just mean, he doesn't seem to want me either." Rachel plopped down next to Puck and ran her hands down her legs, smoothing the fabric of her skirt. They sat on the bench for a few moments, their thoughts swirling, and Rachel's shoulders began to shake. Soon she was all-out crying and Puck had no idea what the hell to do. Crying girls were his kryptonite. "God, Berry don't cry. I'm sure things will work out, alright?" He didn't know who he was trying to convince. Rachel just sat there and sobbed. "Do you want a ride home?" He said it flatly and was hoping she'd say no, but he didn't know what else to say and he really wanted to leave.

"No, I'll just walk," Rachel sighed and got up from the bench, wiping her eyes on a tissue she retrieved from the bottom of her bag. She got halfway down the hallway, almost to her previous hiding place, before the tears made a comeback. She leaned her shoulder against the lockers, and Puck, having remained on the bench, got up and walked over to her. Kryptonite remember? "Come on, Berry, let's go." She sniffled and pushed herself from the wall and they walked without speaking to his truck. He helped her inside because the step was a little too high for her and he couldn't help but notice the how nice her hips felt through her sweater. Once safely inside, Puck crossed in front of the truck, slid inside, and turned the ignition. His goal was to get Rachel home without actually talking to her. While he had gotten over their bleacher breakup, he still didn't like her, especially now that she had fucked up his life and his chances with Quinn. Plus he couldn't risk looking like a girl in front of her.

***

They successfully rode to Rachel's house in silence because he already knew the way and she had taken a momentary vow of silence. She didn't have anything to say for once in her life, or at least nothing that she thought Puck would want to hear. He pulled into her driveway and she got out with a thank you.

She had nearly closed the door before he said, "Wait," and she halted in her movement. "Can I…come in?" And because Rachel was the kind of person who would do anything for anyone, she said, "Sure, I don't think my dads are home." She finished closing the door to the truck and Puck got out and walked with her to her front door. He had been in her house before but still had trouble processing the sheer size of it. Her house was twice the size of his, and he felt a little uncomfortable there, but he needed someone to vent to, and Berry was convenient, if not the cause of all his problems. _Lies_. He was actually the cause of all of his problems, and Quinn was the cause of all of his problems; Rachel was just his scapegoat.

Rachel went in to her kitchen and brought back two bottles of water and Puck took off his coat and hung it on the hook by the door. They made their way into her living room. She turned on the television for background noise, but they ended up watching an episode of _Intervention_ on A&E instead. When the women tried to shoot up and the needle slipped and blood spurted down her arm and onto her shirt and pants, Rachel just about vomited, and when said woman licked the blood off of her arm, Rachel couldn't take it and it off. Puck blinked several times, and it was clear Rachel had been the only on actually _watching_ the show, Puck was just staring. "Are you ok," Rachel asked the stone-still figure next to her. "No," he answered and somehow managed to convey all of his emotions into that one little word.

Rachel closed the gap between them on the couch and reached out to run circles across his back with her perfectly clipped nails. It felt good and he sighed under her hand. "Turn for me a little," she said, and he shifted on the couch so he was facing away from her. She ran both hands in circles across his back and then focused her attention on his shoulders; they were tense and firm and she had to work to get the knots out. She couldn't see, and he would deny it to his grave, but while she was back there doing her thing, he had let his mind wonder to Quinn and the baby and he was scared of what would happen to them, and silent tears rolled from his hazel eyes, down his face, and into his hands. She didn't say anything when she moved down to his lower back and kneaded her small fists into him. She knew he needed comfort, and she knew he wasn't ready to talk. She finished with his back, and moved him around to face her; Puck hurriedly wiped the man-tears from his face and thanked God he wasn't a puffy-face crier and looked into Rachel's eyes. She had those soul-searchers that he couldn't avoid, and he knew she could read him—she had a sixth sense.

They sat facing each other for a moment, Rachel still had her legs crossed so she could reach his back and he had his right leg hitched up on the couch so he could face her. They were close and they both felt it, and he hated her, and she felt sorry for him, and they were right back where they had been two months ago, and as the space between them became shorter and shorter, they both realized what was about to happen. Neither of them pulled back. Her lips brushed his and while he really wished it was Quinn or Santana, he settled for Rachel because she _was _a good kisser and she felt _normal_. Not pregnant or hard, just _normal_. And he realized the moment their lips touched that he needed her. He needed Rachel because she was the kind of person who would do anything for anyone and he needed this. He worked the buttons of her argyle sweater and she let him, and she worked the flannel down his arms. The two tops found their way to the floor. Puck still had his grey undershirt on and Rachel always wore a tank under her sweaters, and they stayed locked together. Puck let his tongue brush against Rachel's lips and she parted them, the familiar feeling of Puck kisses invading her senses. It felt good to be with someone like this again, and Rachel found herself needing Puck, too. He ran his hand up her arm and rested it on her neck, tilting her head back and taking control of the kiss. Rachel shivered and leaned into him, rolling her legs from underneath of her and settled on her knees. She pushed him back into the arm of the couch and he hunched down so she was on top of him. With one leg on either side of his hips, she kissed her way across his face. He flinched when she brushed the nasty bruise forming on his right cheekbone and she stopped. He captured her lips with his and she took the invitation to continue.

Rachel made her way slowly across his jaw line, down to his neck, and then up to the place just behind his earlobe that she knew from previous experience got him hard. He shifted under her, trying to get his erection in a more comfortable position; denim wasn't really his friend in these situations. Rachel knew what she was doing, even if her experience was limited and she rose up to unbuckle his belt. She tugged at the leather until Puck suddenly raised his hips and she was bombarded by the sound of snapping leather and the feeling of Puck's erection pressed between her legs. He knew what he was doing and was pleased that he had killed two birds with one hip thrust. With his belt on the floor, Rachel reached to unbutton his fly. Puck meanwhile was trying to figure out how the hell her skirt worked. He thought pulling the bow loose would work, but he didn't see any buttons or a zipper or any sort of device that would help his pursuit of a naked Rachel. He grunted in frustration and tried tugging at the damned thing, but it was no use. Rachel laughed softly and Puck almost forgot everything that had happened that day.

Rachel successfully opened Puck's jeans, and she stood to drag them off of his legs. He swung his legs around and rested his feet on the carpet and found himself at eye level with her chest. He slid his hands up her thighs to her hips and around to the small of her back. Rachel reached forward and pulled Puck's undershirt up and over his shoulders, leaving him in a pair of black boxers. When his hands returned to her back, he found what he was looking for: the zipper to her skirt. He pulled down the zipper and the offending material slid easily onto the floor with the rest of their clothes. Down to a pair of navy boy-shorts and her white tank top Rachel suddenly felt a bit self-conscience, but Puck pulled her forward by her back, and she fell into him.

She straddled his hips again and he leaned back against her couch, enjoying the feel of her weight on him. She went back to his ear and he moaned under his breath and slipped his hands under her shirt and around her sides. He found the clasp to her bra and snapped it, running his hands over the exposed flesh under her shirt. She raised herself and managed to take off her bra without taking off her shirt: a trick she learned during her first dance recital. He was amazed. He moved his hands around to her front, but she batted them out from under her shirt, so he touched her through the fabric and she moaned and arched her back and he watched her nipples harden between his fingers. He moved his mouth to cover the right one, getting her tank top wet enough that he could see the color shift from her breasts to her nipples. He was basking in her moans and gasps and she was bucking her hips into his erection and he moaned along with her. He moved to her left nipple, his hands hard on her hips, moving her into him. She reached between them and gently grabbed his erection, pulling it out from his boxers. Puck gasped at the feeling of her hand and the air brushing against the tip, and Rachel tentatively began to stroke him. She was staring at his mouth over her breast and he glanced up, making eye contact. She shuddered from the lust in his eyes and he groaned as her thumb passed over his head.

He moved his hands down to the hem of her tank and slowly slid the material up her torso, exposing her stomach and ribcage. She let him take off her shirt and he was on her nipples again, and she couldn't believe how much more she felt when she was exposed. Her hand returned to his hips and she let her fingers trail down to his balls. She played with them gently, pulling slightly and rolling them easily in her hand. Puck was pretty sure she had no idea what she was doing, but he'd be damned if it didn't feel amazing. Rachel moved back up his shaft and let the smooth skin bunch up at his tip a little before she slid her hand back down to the base. When she brushed the tip again, she felt the moisture of his pre-cum and moved it across his head: moaning ensued. She focused on the head because that's how she got the most reaction out of him, and he bucked his hips involuntarily.

Puck kissed each of Rachel's nipples one last time before he pushed her gently from him, moving her to lie on her back at the other end of the couch. He was pretty sure if she kept stroking him he was going to lose it, and it was tradition at this point for him to let her get hers before he got his. Rachel sat back and propped herself up a bit with one of the couch pillows. As Puck moved between her legs Rachel saw his erection bounce back into his boxers and she realized what she thought was about to happen, "Puck I don't want to be rude, but I'm not ready for you to-"he shushed her with a finger to her lips and said, "Don't worry, I know. Just let me make you feel good ok?" She nodded slowly and he replaced his finger with his mouth and let his hand brush down her chest and stomach. Her body was covered in goose bumps and she signed into his mouth. "Do you touch yourself" he asked against her lips, his hand brushing her hip. Her eyes shot open, "I beg your pardon, I hardly think that an appropriate question!" Puck cocked an eyebrow, "Berry, I just want you to be comfortable, chill the fuck out, ok?" She looked at him, searching for some sign of lewdness, but it was a genuine question, "Oh, ok," she said meekly and settled back into her original position under him, "Yes." Puck made a little noise in the back of his throat at the newfound information, "Good." Rachel didn't get a chance to ask why before Puck's hand moved from her hip between her thighs. He parted her legs and let his thumb brush over her clit through her panties. She gasped into his mouth and he smiled.

Puck trailed kisses down Rachel's neck and between her breasts, and she hissed and arched up into him each time his lips met her skin. He moved back onto his knees and his hands hooked into either side of her panties. He looked up at her and she looked apprehensive for a second as he waited for her approval. She gave a definitive nod of consent and he slid the material down and off of her legs. Rachel was beautiful when she was exposed and Puck just looked at her for moment before he moved off of the couch to rest beside it, and he moved her hips so her lower half was level with his face. Rachel was a little embarrassed and moved another couch pillow to cover her face and Puck touched her for the first time.

Rachel had masturbated before, but it was nothing compared to having someone else do it for you. Puck's skilled fingers played teasingly with her opening, spreading the wetness he found there around her. She was moaning and Puck knew exactly what he was doing. He played with her clit for a while and spread her with his other hand, his tongue joining his fingers and she screamed at the first contact: not loud, more of a shriek really, and Puck smirked into her, enjoying her taste. His tongue danced across her, and she felt the familiar tension building right behind her clit. He slipped his middle finger into her to the second knuckle, letting her adjust to his undoubtedly larger finger. She moved her hips down and he took it as an invitation to move deeper. She moaned as he covered her with his mouth, sucking on her clit, his finger pushing slowly in and out of her body: adding to her pleasure. She bucked her hips and in the process knocked the unopened bottles of water off of the coffee table. Her hand found its way to the back of his head and she ground his face into her. Yeah, it hurt the bruises, but he really didn't care because the sounds she was making as she rode his face while she climaxed were unforgettable and Puck decided he wanted to do this again. Her grasp on his head loosened, but he kept sucking her clit until her aftershocks wore off. He was covered in her and slowly licked at her opening and she shuddered at the contact.

Rachel still had the pillow over her face and Puck wiped his face with his undershirt. He grabbed one of the bottles of water from the floor and took a drink. He replaced the cap and moved up her limp body, removing the pillow from her face. "You ok," he whispered and she was pretty sure she had died somewhere during that whole thing, but she replied with a heavy sigh instead. "Yeah, I'm that good," he said and he was right back where he wanted to be. She snorted and kissed him and she could taste herself on his tongue: it was intoxicating.

Puck shifted Rachel so he could lie down next to her. She moaned and stretched, the numbness leaving her body. "That was nice," she said and smiled as she trailed her fingertips down his abdomen, she avoided his sides because she knew he was ticklish there. She rested her head into the crook of his shoulder and danced her fingers down to the waistband of his boxers. "Do you want me to return the favor?" She looked up at him and he really didn't need to say anything, but she kind of wanted to hear it out loud, "God, yes," he said, never so sure of anything in his life. She let her hand slip back inside the waistband of his boxers and she stroked him beneath the fabric until she could feel his pre-cum. She brought him out while she rubbed his tip and his head fell back against the pillow she had used to cover her face. He pushed his boxers down his legs and onto the floor, and he moaned and bucked into her hand and she shifted her weight so she could use her other hand to rub his balls at the same time. He could not believe she hadn't done this before. She tilted her head up so she could attack his earlobe and he was pretty sure he was going to lose it, but he wanted to see how far she would go so he moved hand down to hold himself. She removed her hands completely, "You're fine, I just don't want to go yet," he said and she moved so she was covering his body with hers.

She kissed a wet trail from his mouth to his abdomen and she licked each ridge of defined muscles. He stole a glace down at her and moaned at the sight of her tongue in his bellybutton. He still had a firm hold on himself and once she got all of the way down his body, she nipped at his hips and took him in her hands. She stroked him again he let his head fall back against the pillows once more. She hovered her mouth over his tip, unsure exactly of how to go about the whole thing, and when she breathed out, his eyes shot open and they stared at each other: her eyes were questioning, and he wasn't sure what he was allowed to do with her.

He moved his right hand gently into her hair, and she didn't protest, so he guided her mouth cautiously onto his head, eyes still locked. She knew enough not to use her teeth, and for that he was grateful. He tangled his hand further into her hair pulling it a little, and pushed her down, ever so slightly, so she could get the feel of him.

Puck groaned and couldn't keep his eyes open any longer and Rachel began to bob her head over him. He sort of growled, low in his chest, and he twitched in her mouth. She wasn't ready for that, and she let him slip from her mouth, his head gliding from the back of her teeth. He shuddered and when she sucked on the head and massaged his balls he knew he wasn't going to last much longer, "Rachel," he moaned by way of warning and she took the hint. The problem was that Rachel couldn't decided what she should do, and just as she lifted her mouth from him, he came and warm sticky fluid shot from the tip and onto her hand and face, and his stomach and trimmed pubic hair. Rachel was shocked, and she sat there, mouth agape until he finished shuddering and relaxed. He opened his eyes and almost lost it because she looked so vulnerable and hot, but then he remembered it was Rachel, and it was her first time doing anything like this, and he reached down on the floor for his undershirt. He folded it to the clean side and handed it to Rachel. She wiped her face, then her hands, and handed the shirt back to Puck.

Puck sat up on the couch and cleaned himself off; he let the shirt fall to the floor. He pulled Rachel up to sit next to him. Propped up by the pillows, he let her rest her head on his chest. They were both pretty exhausted considering the day they had had. "Good," she asked him once his breathing became long and even. "100 times yes," he said and kissed the top of her head. They lay there a moment, post-orgasmic bliss swirling around their minds.

Finally Puck sat up a little and Rachel slid off of him. Puck grabbed his boxers and pants and slid into them, his legs still a little shaky. Rachel sat up and located her panties and tank top, going sans bra. While Puck fixed the couch pillows, Rachel went back into the kitchen and made an ice pack. She brought the ice and an old grocery sack into the living room where Puck had put on his flannel and was doing up his belt. "Here, I'm sorry if I got a little hasty and made your face worse," she said and handed him the ice pack, "I got you this for your shirt," she gave Puck the bag and he put the stained shirt inside; the ice pack he put on the rapidly swelling bruise on his cheek. "Thanks," he said and crossed the room to the foyer where he retrieved his coat from the hook. As he opened the door and walked down her porch steps she said, "I'm sorry I ruined your chances with Quinn." He opened the door to his truck and shot back over his shoulder, "I'm pretty sure you just more than made up for that, Berry."

**A/N: Sorry this was freakishly long. I wanted to get the details right. Let me know what you think of it. **


End file.
